A Deeper Look: How the Journey Continued
Coming back to the church didn’t happen all at once. What I’ve shared so far is the turning point – but there is more to the story. This is the deeper, more personal journey of how the Lord worked with me, patiently and very personally to bring me all the way back.
A Foundation of Faith
When I was seven years old, my father was a Sunday School teacher in the Methodist Church. One day, missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints knocked on our door. My dad, who loved discussing spiritual things, invited them in. He told them right away that he wasn’t interested in changing religions—but he welcomed the conversation.
But the more he learned, the more it resonated with him. He believed so strongly in what the missionaries taught that he was eventually asked to stop teaching in the Methodist Church—because he had begun weaving those teachings into his lessons.
When he learned about the Word of Wisdom, he didn’t hesitate—even though he smoked one to two packs of cigarettes a day. After the missionaries left, he went outside, finished his last pack, and never smoked again.
My dad faced many physical challenges. He was diabetic and passed away young, at age 52. But no matter what he faced, he stayed true to the gospel. Because he was so strong in his faith—and because I loved him—I grew up loving the Church and the gospel.
When I Let Go
But leaning on someone else’s testimony is not enough—and even our own testimony must be nourished.
I did gain a testimony for myself, and I held onto it for a time. But after the failure of my first marriage, I felt deeply unworthy. Instead of turning to the Lord, I withdrew—and let go of the very things that had once strengthened me.
That decision set off a chain reaction—more poor choices, more pain, and deeper feelings of unworthiness.
A Life That Was Good—But Different
When my daughter was six years old, I moved to Maryland—and yes, I married a man I met on the internet. He was a good man. He didn’t believe in organized religion, but he respected my beliefs.
We had 17 good years together. Not perfect—but good.
The Voice I Recognized
My husband had always been extremely active. He rarely needed much sleep, and I often woke up at 4 a.m. to the sound of him vacuuming outside our bedroom. That was just who he was—full of energy.
In 2006, he had a heart attack and, within 24 hours, underwent two major heart surgeries. After that, he began to slow down. By the fall of 2013, he could still care for himself, but his energy was gone. He would go to work and come home too tired to do anything but rest.
One night, I had just gotten into bed when he asked if I could get his medication. I didn’t mind helping him—but I had just gotten comfortable, and I felt a little irritated that he hadn’t asked earlier.
And then I heard a voice:
“Oh, you’re irritated because you’re already comfortable in bed. You don’t really want to get up, so you’re going to be a little grouchy. But do you not remember how much this man loves you? How much he’s done for you? And you’re going to be upset over something as small as getting out of bed? This isn’t his problem—it’s yours. And it’s so easy to fix. From now on, just ask him before you get into bed if there’s anything he needs.”
That moment changed everything.
I got up and gave him his medication—with love and gratitude. From then on, every night before bed, I asked if he needed anything. I was never irritated with him again—not once. It became a blessing to serve him.
Six months later, he passed away.
I have always been grateful that our final months together were filled with more kindness and love—because I listened to that voice.
The Call to Return
Years later, in March of 2022, I woke up one morning and heard that same voice again—clear and unmistakable—telling me to go back to church.
I didn’t know anyone in the area who attended The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but I recognized that voice.
I trusted it.
Even though I hadn’t been living my covenants, and I didn’t feel worthy of the companionship of the Holy Ghost, I still went. I found the meetinghouse near me and simply walked in.
A Warning I Didn’t Expect
After attending for a few weeks, I felt a strong urgency to meet with the bishop and talk about becoming more active. I scheduled an appointment for Sunday after church.
But then something unusual happened.
My dog became sick—very predictably. Friday night at 7. Saturday morning at 7. Saturday night at 7. Sunday morning at 7. Otherwise, he seemed fine, but the pattern concerned me.
It stayed on my mind through church. When it came time for my appointment, I told the bishop I was worried and needed to go home. We rescheduled.
By Sunday night, my dog was fine. Monday morning, still fine. The vet gave him a completely clean bill of health.
I didn’t understand it at the time.
The Hardest Day
Tuesday morning, as I lay in bed, that same voice came again:
“When you meet with the bishop, are you prepared to tell him about that particular sin from long ago?”
I answered out loud, “No—I never did that. I was very careful.”
But then the memories came.
And I realized… I had not been as careful as I thought. I had committed that sin, even if I hadn’t fully recognized it before.
And then it hit me.
If my dog hadn’t gotten sick in that exact pattern, I would have met with the bishop and unknowingly lied.
That realization broke me.
I literally fell to my knees. That is not easy for me to do—but I did it. I prayed, and I cried, and I kept praying. My heart didn’t stop all day.
It was one of the hardest days of my life.
Telling the Truth
It took more than two weeks before I was able to meet with the bishop again.
When I did, I told him everything.
No excuses. No justification. Just the truth.
I would love to say that everything became easy immediately—but it didn’t. It took time.
But eventually… it did become easier.
And it became beautiful.
The Lord strengthened my weaknesses. He sent good and loving people to help me. He opened my eyes to tender mercies and even mighty miracles.
A Change of Heart
Someone once asked me if I thought I would ever go inactive again.
I told them I honestly can’t imagine choosing to step away again—not after experiencing that change of heart. Not after hearing the song of redeeming love.
A Glimpse of Eternity
Months after I had put my life back in order, I was given a brief but vivid moment of inspiration.
I saw myself with my husband—the man I am now sealed to—learning how to spiritually create animals. We were laughing and full of joy. I remember especially that he had created a little mouse… with an elephant trunk. We both thought it was hilarious.
Immediately after that image, the voice came again:
“Anything you have to sacrifice, anything you have to do without during this tiny moment of mortality—it will be worth it for an eternity with the people you love.”
That message has never left me.
What I Know Now
Nothing we give up for God is ever truly lost.
Eternal joy far outweighs any temporary sacrifice.
I once believed that even having a testimony would be enough. Now I know we need more.
We need daily connection with the Lord.
We need to listen for His voice—and act on it.
We need to repent fully and often.
And above all, we need a real relationship with our Savior—one that changes us.
I know now, with certainty, that He can change us.
He changed me.
He didn’t give up on me—even when I had let go. He found ways to reach me and gently guide me back.
Because of that, I now know the peace of being clean.
I know the joy of feeling the Spirit again.
I know what it feels like to hear the song of redeeming love in my heart.
And if you are still waiting for that change—or if you have felt it before and lost it—I promise you:
It is not too late.
No matter how long it has been. No matter what has happened.
The Lord is ready.
His arms are open.
And whatever you have to give up to return to Him—it will be worth it.
For this life…
and for eternity.
